Damon's Cinderella
by Sunriserooftops
Summary: When Damons accidentally meets a certain blonde he can't help but no longer wanting to not be alone. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Credit goes where credit's due – all characters belong to their respective owners.  
Author Notes: This is the first in a series of drabbles for a fairtytale challenge, losely based on Cinderella.

* * *

**1. Meet and greet**

He stumbled into her bar, the sunlight burning a hole in his already swollen head. He felt like he might be dying – unless he knew so wasn't the case. He sat in the far back with a whiskey and looked around the room. He noticed the young blond at once, but ignored her.

Damon sipped his whiskey slowly, looking at her a she ran from table to table, taking orders from everybody and not once stopping to think of herself. She took order after order, and then finally she stopped by his table. She apologized for being late and not paying attention to him sooner – she was scrambling to get a grip of the crowded room and he felt for her.

Maybe the first person he had ever felt for.

"So, what can I get you?" she finally asked. When she looked up he couldn't help but smile at her.

"Another one of these," he said, shaking his glass of whiskey.

"Sure. Anything else?"

He shook his head.

He sat there for another few hours, watching the bar clear out a few times, listening to the music. Finally she seemed to have a moment to herself. She pulled a broom out from a cupboard and then a mop, followed by a bucket. She walked over to the jukebox and smiled over at him. "You've been sitting there all day," she noted, her voice soft. "What are you hiding from?" She squinted into the shadows, and he smiled at her.

"Nothing much, life. You know."

"Yeah, I'm familiar with it," she mumbled bitterly and put money in the jukebox. "The days when my mom go out of town are always the one's when it gets busy, busy, busy..."

"I bet." He got up from his chair, suddenly leaning against the bar with a crooked smile, directed at her. "I'm Damon."

"Good for you."

"Nice to meet ya."

"You too, Damon." She made a point of his name as well as not telling him hers, and it made him like her even more.

"You sure slave away around here," he pointed out. "How long have you been working here?"

"A few years," she said, sweeping the floor in a fluid motion that mae her body dance. Damn!

"Why?"

"To help my mom out," she said simply. Like anyone would have done the same thing. "And, well, I kinda like it. I take the poker players for money and I'm saving up..."

"To do what?"

"If I told you," she smiled up at him, not really looking up from the floor. "I'd have to kill you."

"That might be a lot easier than you might think," he mumbled under his breath.

"What?" she said, not really listening to him. He took the opportunity to move closer and breathe her in for a moment. She was so close he could feel the heat roll off of her body, could see all the flaws in her complexion, the green in her eyes, the gold in her hair...

"Would you like to dance?" he whispered. She was startled and almost dropped the broom, looking up at him she almost smiled. He caught the broom just before it left her hand, his hand overlapping hers.

"Well?"

She nodded mutely. He put the broom away, and walked over to the jukebox to put a song on. It had been a favorite of his, back in its day. Can't fight the feeling, by Speedwagon. He loved it. And, he'd noted her putting it on twice, to he guessed she liked it too. She smiled at him as he turned to her. "Let's dance," he smiled, and took her in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. I could have danced all night...**

Damon held her close, until the song ended and something in him snapped back into place. She was – different, sure, that was one word – but the word he didn't like having ringing in his ears was 'dangerous'. She was dangerous. And he'd known it from the moment he stepped through the door. He knew all the hunters were talking about ways to kill the supernatural. To kill him, if they had the chance.

She probably would too, if she got the chance too. And the fact that he was holding her this close suddenly made him very aware of the fact that she was a danger. He looked down at her and she smiled at him; something in her smile made him think she might not be as bad, that she might have spared him if she found out. He felt his arms around her, her hand in his, and something lingering in his mind as the next song began.

"Bad moon rising" rang out and he felt a shiver down his spine – sure, outside the full moon was rising and Jo was all alone with a vampire that had no scruples about feeding off of humans. So it might just be a bad moon, cos deep down inside, he wanted to take her.

Her scent.

Her blood pumping just inches away from him.

The growing desire to feed.

To take.

His mind was rushing around itself, trying to find a way out before he did something… stupid.

"What's your favourite color?" she asked, looking up at him adoringly.

Damon winced, smiled gently and said "That silverblue color right there-" he lifted his hand and pointed to the speck of color in her eye. "-that's my favourite."

She blushed. So much blood rushing to one place, under the steady sound of her heartbeat.

The door swung open and a woman stepped in. Jo let go of Damon and took a long step back, rushed, and it all went so fast.

"Joanna Beth Harvelle, did you close my bar just so you could dance? And you-" she glared at him. "Damon Salvatore, better be getting the hell outta here!" she yelled. Damon looked at Jo, who's eyes were wide with terror.

"Salvatore? The- The-" The word got caught in her throat, as she tried to say vampire. Her face was twisted with disgust and he almost felt afraid.

"Vampire," her mother filled in. "Yeah. Now get!"

Damon turned to Jo and looked at her one last time, but to his surprise, she turned around and ran out the front door. She was crying, and as the clock struck twelve, Damon Salvatore found himself looking into the black night for the woman who had finally gone above and beyond in surprising him. Jo, he thought, someday, someway.


	3. Chapter 3

**3. Missing you ain't worth it anymore**

It wasn't like Damon had ever thought of falling in love again, not after the first time. And he was definatly not saying he was falling in love with the hunter-girl. No. If anything he was more set on getting away from her now that he was known to her. He was sure she'd heard his name before, from the look on her face. Ellen hadn't been any help; screaming like that, trying her best to get the upper hand so she could stake him. Not the way to treat a guest, he'd told her, which made her all the more furious.

He wandered the desert aimlessly, hoping he'd find something to clue him in on what he should do. He couldn't go back and get his car – which really was too bad since he'd grown to love that car.

Two days later and he still felt drawn to Jo. He really hoped to run into her – but he hadn't so far. For the pas two days he'd been travelling around, waiting it out. He'd heard something was up and that his head was on the list – on Ellen's list. That was never good. During all the years he'd come and gone through the roadhouse not once had he managed to end up on her list. But now, just looking at and dancing with her daughter Damon had earned himself the top of the list. Not good!

He was passing through Texas almost three months later, when he thought he saw her – Jo.

She was sitting outside a coffeehouse reading, she was accompanied by two men he thought he sort of, might possibly recognize. Hunters, he was sure. He stopped and looked at her, her long blond hair whipping in the wind, her eyes sparkling and her lips moving softly. Then she looked up, and for a second, he thought she was looking right at him. But she made no sign of recognizing him. He felt his chest tigthen and his brow furrow. Maybe it wasn't Jo?

He checked into a hotel, being careful as he did. He tried avoiding cameras and names he'd gone by before. Hours later, when he got back to his room, someone was waiting for him. An old friend.

"The girl is beautiful," he said.

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked sourly.

"Came to see you, brother. I knew you'd pass through on your trip, trying to shake the hunters. So predicatble."

"Predictable?" Damon's eyebrows shot up to his forehead and he tried to surpress a smile.

"Yes."

"So then, what so you know about the girl?" Damon stared at his brother, Stefan always thinking he knew best. Silly creature.

"I know she's more or less a captive. The girl with the books and the answers these days."

"Mopping the floor and doing the laundry?" he asked.

"She's close. The motell down the road. The boys went hunting." At Stefan's words, Damon was out of his chair and out the door. When he pulled into the motell, he was sure she was there. He stood outside the door that smelled like her, waiting for courage to knock.

He raisied his hand, slowly letting his knuckles touch the door. The sound was weak, and the room was dark. Inside a light turned on, and he heard feet hit the soft rug. If his heart could beat!

She opened the door wearing a t-shirt and shorts, her hair hanging over her one shoulder and she looked him over. "Damon." His name seemed to catch in her throat as she took a step back. He couldn't enter without her consent, she knew and wanted him to speak.

"I didn't lie to you."

"You weren't honest."

"Would you have danced with me? Would you have looked at me the way you did if you knew?"

She shook her head. "No, because no matter what, you are a monster first."

"That's not true," he protested. "When I was with you, I felt more human and scared then I had in a long time, Jo."

"So you say," she almost snarled.

"I do. I've been looking for you, everywhere I go to hide from your mother, I look for you. Knowing you would never look for me, knowing how much you hate me..."

"I don't hate you," she said with a soft little laugh. Her eyes were suddenly softer.

"Why don't you? Your mother does-"

"I'm not my mother." She took a step towards him, and with a soft smile she said: "Won't you come in?"

* * *

Jo leaned into his touch, his hands on the small of her back, one of them moving up, ready to steady her head. Her moans came in small doses, her hands on his shoulders as he pushed into her, over and over again, their lips meeting in an intricate dance that was filled with passion and need. She had consented. She was giving herself to him, and he wanted her. He admitted as much to her, whispering it in her ear as her naked legs wrapped around his waist, meeting him as he first entered her. She clung to him, whispering her want with every inch of herself. Her blood roared, pounded away under her delicate skin.

"I need to have you," he moaned, feeling his thirst for her increase.

"Take me," she moaned. He didn't stop moving against her, as he explained what kind of need it was. She simply moaned and nodded, kissing him before she ben her head away. Easy access to her juggular, and he couldn't fight any longer. He could feel her body begin to tremble, her orgasm close and he graced her neck with a kiss before. "I knew I could love you," he whispered against her skin before he slowly let his teeth sink through the soft flesh. The pain seemed to be all she needed to send her over the edge. She clung to him harder, her body shaking, her heart pounding, the sweet taste of her filling him.

* * *

Jo woke up the next sunset, her eyes clear as she looked at him.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Alive."

"Good," he smiled.

"You turned me, didn't you?"

"You don't remember?"

She nodded. "Last night, you explained. And I let you."

"Yes. And now you will never have to cook or clean or do the laundry again."

"No more cinderella," she smirked.

He laughed. "No, no more cinderella."

"What now, prince charming?" she asked with a soft smile.

"Forever, my princess."


End file.
